The cook disappeared in the kitchen to return with a double barreled sawed-off shotgun.
“Fill ’em up with nails,” he chuckled. “Hit someone and phooey!”
“Phooey, is right,” grinned Slim. “I guess you’re safe enough from the rustlers. Got any idea who’s causing all of the trouble?”
“Plenty ideas, no proof. Bad business to talk with loose tongue.”
“You’re right, Wu. A loose tongue can sure get a fellow into a lot of trouble.”
“They want you at the ranch house as soon as you’re through.”
“I’ll be along in a minute.” Slim finished the last of the can of peaches. “Great supper, Wu. Thanks a lot for saving it for me.”
“Okay,” grinned Wu, who had warmed to Slim’s praise of his cooking.
Slim found the owner of the Box B propped up in bed. Joe Haines was in a chair nearby.
“Chuck’s told us about the rain,” said Adam Marks, his keen eyes glinting beneath the bandage which swathed his head. “Anything else happen?”
Slim recounted briefly his hard ride on the trail of the bushwhacker. “The fellow was circling along the foothills and riding pretty hard. He must have had an idea he would be trailed.”
“You’re darned right he did,” put in the range foreman. “We wouldn’t let a shooting like that go without trying to get revenge.”
“Get any clues on the fellow’s identity?” asked Marks.
“I’ll recognize the marks of his horse’s shoes wherever I see them,” replied Slim.
“Good boy. We’ve needed a couple of nervy riders like you and your pardner. It gives me new courage. We’ll whip these rustlers to a standstill.”
“I’d like to know how they ship the stock they rustle,” said Slim.
Joe Haines smiled grimly. “I’d like to know the same thing. I’ve got a hunch, but you can’t prove anything on a hunch.”
“How do the other cattlemen in the valley stand?”
“They’re all suspicious since I started losing cattle. Claim they’re being raided, too, but I doubt that. No one will work together. It’s every man for himself.”
They discussed the situation for a time and then Slim went to the bunkhouse. The other riders were in their bunks, apparently asleep, but Chuck roused up and lifted his bulk on one elbow. He started to speak, but Slim shook his head, undressed, turned out the light, and rolled into the blankets. He was worn out by the hard ride on the trail and he fell into a slumber that was broken only by the strident tones of Lee Wu’s breakfast bell the next morning.
